A mountain is covered heavily with snow; the dawn is breaking at the edge of the horizon. Few trees poke up and the orange tones that light up the sky reflect off the perfectly smooth surface of a frozen over lake. The silence of the beginning of a new day is broken at the sound of a boots coming across the lake, well practiced and placed after years of experience, they don't stumble.

The men are heavily clothed head to toe and start to take equipment out of a sleigh they brought with them. They start to hack at the ice, cutting through it in perfect synchronization. They make perfect blocks out of it and take them out of the ice, loading them on the sled.

A small girl with long hair in braids sits at the edge of the ice, trying to get a block of ice out of the water. Next to her a small moose crouches beside her, watching with interest and making sure she doesn't fall in.

The sun makes it's way across the sun far too fast for the workers taste. The eventually pack up and take their sled of ice back to their main camp, the small girl and her moose following behind. Tomorrow they'll return, they lake would have re-frozen by then. And they'll repeat it the next day, and then the next.

This was their life.

Outside of a large, ornately arched window the dark sky appeared to be lit up by a great, green and blue fire, shifting and shining silently through the still of the night.

The light of the Aurora Borealis shone through the window pane onto a young boy with short, dirty blonde hair and freckles speckling across his face. The boy appeared to be eight. His breathing was even and calm, his eyes closed and his face relaxed as he slumbered comfortably on a big, plush bed.

The sound of bed sheets moving was followed by a small thud, and then the patter of tiny feet walking across the wooden floors. A small hand appeared on the bed, and another appears to accompany it, as a small child hoists himself onto the bed. The boy, who can't be older than four, has shaggy, pale white hair, the color of freshly fallen snow. His eyes are wide and hazel, seeming to shift between green and blue.

The small boy, now successfully on the bed, creeps clumsily over to the slumbering form of the older boy and grabs one of his hands, tugging excitedly on it.

"Dean, Dean, wake up!" He pleads, and a tired, lethargic groan is emitted by the older boy. His eyes slowly open to reveal hazel orbs, the center being yellow with the outer edges turning green and then blue.

"Sammy, go back to bed." Dean says as he reaches for his blanket, pulling it determinedly around his body.

"But Deeaaannnn!" Sammy whines, flopping onto his older brother, his face gazing up at the ceiling, the light show outside reflecting off his eyes. "They sky's awake, so I'm awake." Dean slowly sits up so he can look at Sammy.

"What do you want to do anyways?" He asks, and Sammy's eyes light up brighter than the sky outside the window.

"I wanna do the magic!" He says happily. Dean rolls his eyes.

"You can do that on your own." At that Sam pouts.

"But';s it's only fun when you're around." He complains. Dean gives a sigh but a small smile touches his lips.

"Okay fine." Sam gives a squeal of glee and the hurry out of Deans bedroom, down the hallways and stars, until they enter a large ballroom. The floors are flat and the veiling is a high arc. Columns come down from the ceilings at the edge of the room. Sammy happily runs into the room as Dean closes the door quietly behind them. They're supposed to be asleep, and their parents might not take them staying up well.

"Are you ready?" Sam asks dean, his voice excited.

"Whenever you are." Dean replies. The two of them are standing relatively in the center of the huge ballroom, and the little white haired boy closes his eyes tight in concentration as he spreads his arms out slightly. After a single moment of pause a thin layer of ice covers the entire floor Dean smiles when Sam giggles in delight as he sees his own work.

Next Sam hovers both of his hands next to each other, as small ball of concentrated snow floating in between them. He looks up and shares a wide smile with Dean before launching towards the ceiling. The small sphere exploded, and snow cam cascading down into the room. Sam and Dean hurried off to opposite sides of the room, making small forts and 'shields' before snowballs started to fly towards the air towards each other.

Neither of them took any notice of a man hidden in the shadows.

Eventually both [arties tired of the game. Sam started running on the snow columns as he made them while Dean proceeded to try and make a miniature house out of the snow.

"Careful, Sam." Dean called as he watched his younger brother out of the corner of his eyes. Sam kept going higher and higher, which made him nervous.

Sam took no notice of Dean, just continuing on his way.

"Sammy," Dean called out, standing up and abandoning his house. "Sammy." The white haired boy didn't hear, and he jumped onto yet a another column, taller than the last, and lost his footing, his body starting the long fall downward.

"Sam!" the name ripped out of Dean's throat as his body surged forward to catch the boy and Sam, in a bout of fear and adrenaline, let out a burst of magic targeted downward.

The rest seemed to be in slow motion. Sam watched in horror as the bit of magic he had released hit Dean on the head. The older brother fell to the ground after the hit, not moving, and a handful of hairs turned white. Instead of hitting the ground Sam found himself in the arms of a stranger. He was a full grown man with dark and blue eyes. He wore a tan cloak and a white formal shirt and dark pants, but Sam didn't pay him much attention or thought.

Sam instead struggled in his arms, his eyes never breaking contact with Dean's limp body resting on the floor.

"Dean." He said with worry and the man put him down, allowing him to rush to his brothers side.

"You may be at ease, Samuel." The man's voice was surprisingly low and Sam turned to him, his body protectively over Deans.

"Who are you?" The man went onto his haunches so that he was at eyes level with Sam before he replied.

"I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord. It is my sworn duty to protect your bloodline. I have been in your family for many generations." Before Sam could react to the statement the doors burst open.

A man and women entered, who many would identify as the King and Queen, and Sam knew as Mom and Dad. The King had black hair and a scruffy beard while the queen had hair like gold and elegantly held herself. The King took one look at the scene before worry overcame his features and him and his wife rushed over to their sons.

"What happened, Castiel?" the Queen asked as she gently hugged her younger, tearful son in comfort. She had been the heir to the throne, so she knew Castiel well.

"I'm afraid after a series of improbable unfortunate events Dean has had his mind… frozen." The King and Queen's eyes widened and mouths opened, fear evident.

"Castiel, what can we do?" The King demanded.

"John, you and Mary must take your son up to the mountains. There are a group of people there who are one with the old ways. Ask for a Robert Singer. If anyone can save your son, it will be him."

The King and Queen exchanged a brief glance with each other and nodded. Before Sam knew it they were taking two horses – one for his dad and Dean and one for him and his mom – out of the kingdom. They rode through the mountains until they came to the mentioned rocky clearing.

"Hello?" John called, his heart falling by the lack of people. Maybe they weren't here anymore; maybe his son would die tonight. But much to the small groups surprise the trunks of trees, the ground, even boulders, opened up like doors, and people poured out of them. The people regarded the threesome with guarded curiosity. Sam stayed close to his mom as he carefully looked at the people wearing earthy outfits and glowing jewels. John cleared his throat.

"We have been told to find a Robert Singer." Immediately the people started to murmur among one another. An older man wearing many layers of their strange clothing, he had no jewels, and a strange looking hat, came forward.

"My name is Robert Singer, although I go by Bobby." Mary's face relaxed slightly as she held Dean in her arms.

"Please, Bobby, we were told you could help our son." Bobby gently took Dean from Mary and set him down on a waist length boulder.

"What happened?" He asked. The story was hurriedly reiterated to the man the group could only assume was the village elder and they waited for his wise words with bated breath. Bobby took a long breath, gathering his thoughts, before he finally chose to speak.

"Ya idjits just left two little kids, one of them being child blessed with powers, alone?!" The King and Queen looked down with shame as Bobby snapped his fingers, telling several nearby people things he needed him to gather. When they returned he ground the ingredients into a bowl and then threw them into the air above Deans head. He then laid his hand on the dirty blonde hair, closing his eyes for a moment.

"You are extremely lucky I won't sweat with children around." Bobby said as he looked at Sam. "The boy was almost lost, but fortunately while the heart can be fatal, the head can be… persuaded." The air above his head shimmered and images of escapades with Sammy and his powers floated by. "In order to protect his mind I will need to erase the touches of the magic in his life. But," he looked at Sam with slight sympathy shining through is hardened gaze. "I'll keep the fun there, just for you, kid."

After that day things would never be the same. The following mourning Sam was moved to his own room, leaving Dean confused. Sam wouldn't talk to him, or look him in the eyes. Dean felt alone. Now he had no escape from his duties, and was sternly being raised as the heir to Arendelle.

Well, that's it, the first chapter. So what do you guys think? Good? Bad? Continue? Bail? Thank for reading!